


16

by Aliena (ChokolatteJedi)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Early Work, F/M, Goddesses, Gods, Slavery, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-27
Updated: 2004-04-27
Packaged: 2018-05-21 17:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/Aliena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mortam just wants to dance with her</p>
            </blockquote>





	16

**Author's Note:**

> I had some constructive criticism (Which I really appreciate BTW) that I had made the names way too complicated, so when I revised this story, I changed most of the Gods' names. The story below is the newer version.

**Part I**

“Dance, boy? D’you think this is a joke?” The God stormed in anger, “You think I spent all that time working on you and helping you carry out my plan just so you could dance with her? She is the chosen one, the Key, I need her to complete the coming of the La’taron! You know that, this is no time for stupid jokes and childish fancies!”

Mortam said nothing as the God’s booming voice rolled through the chamber like salty waves in a storm, hitting the far wall and doubling back upon itself. At the first word the boy had dropped his head, ashen locks falling forward to hide his face. But now he raised it again, a bright fire gleaming in both pale bluey-green eyes, a fire the God had never seen. Mortam’s lips curled up in a sneer. “You have worked on me? You have helped me?” the voice was low and crackling with barely suppressed scorn.

“No, Great Loctor. I have helped you. Who was it that found the right girl for your plan? When you found you could not enter the Temple of Conitzu, who was it that memorized and repeated for you all those sight blinded scrolls of prophesy? Who stole the Wikael from the Temple of Rehambe because you could not enter it either? The only reason that the High Gods haven’t banished you to the farthest stars of Don’atos is because they figure that dealing with me is keeping you out of their way and too busy to meddle in their own plans!”

“Why you ungrateful little wretch!” the God bellowed in anger, “How dare you talk to me in such a way? How dare you lie about the High Gods!”

“I do. Not. Lie.” The boy said, emphasizing each word. “Perhaps, if you spent more time watching the High Gods than the mortals of Terra you might know that. On the other hand, they think that we Bound Ones have no ears merely because we do the bidding of you _Lesser_ Gods. I doubt they would say so much as ‘Peace on your eyes.’ To you were you to enter their palace.” Mortam noted with satisfaction the drooping of Loctor’s face.

“You insolent-” he began, but Mortam cut him off,

“Just because my mother asked for your help does not mean I will meekly pay her price. I may do your bidding, but I have a brain in my head and a tongue in my mouth and I will use them. There is nothing you can threaten me with, for you have taking everything of mine.” Now he smiled mockingly at his master, “But you, oh Great God of the Dimar, Ruler of the Enralla, you need me to do that which you cannot, to keep you from being banished to the Don’atos. If I say I will dance with this girl, I will. You have no power over me.”

Loctor seemed to shrink in on himself at these words and stared blankly and the boy, as if seeing him for the first time. “How, how old are you?” he asked, bewildered.

“How long ago did my mother abandon me as an infant, give me to you as your slave so she could have eternal happiness? That is what you mean, is it not? I have been alive for 18 years, but I have more of the wisdom of age than you.” With that he turned and left the chamber through the soot black door that appeared before him, leaving his master gaping alone.

***

She was sitting beneath the spreading green branches of the asork tree when he approached her. The setting sun cast a golden hue on her pale yellow dress and pale blonde hair. A rosy tint highlighted her face, and she looked more beautiful than Mortam could remember. She was lost in a book as the wind gently played in the waving grasses and the stray strands of her hair that escaped the band she held them back with. He stared at her for a moment, unwilling to take the last step around the towering tree and break the spell of the moment. The tiniest of breezes ruffled her skirts and brought to him a faint smell of the lily tucked behind her ear. With difficulty he broke the spell and walked the last three paces to her. “Good even Miss Colleve. Peace on your Eyes forever” He spoke softly, so as not to startle her.

She smiled up at him, “Peace on your Eyes forever.” She replied formally, then smiled, “Good even Mortam, I’m so glad you came.” She waved for him to sit next to her and he did so, gingerly avoiding her skirts. She gestured to the village spread below them, and they watched as lights were lit to stay the shadows of the oncoming night. “The feast of Breyen will begin at sundown, and then there will be games and stories and dances and songs and music, just as I told you.”

 _Dances_. The word fluttered in his heart when she spoke it. _Dances_. He wanted so badly to dance with her, just once, before the end and the coming of La’taron. “It all sounds wonderful.” He still spoke softly, as his eyes drank up the sight of her, “But I am afraid I don’t know any stories or songs or dances.” He saw a flicker on her face, almost hidden in the twilight, and hoped it meant what he wanted it to mean, “Perhaps, perhaps you could teach me?” he watched her face carefully, but it only showed joy and excitement, no scorn or annoyance.

“Of course I can teach you. I would love to.” _And I would love you_. He thought, heart pounding. She rose and teasingly pulled him to his feet. “Why don’t I teach you the basics now, so you don’t have to learn in front of the entire village tonight.”

He nodded, trying to look grateful and not eager. In truth he had learned how to dance, watching couples whenever he could, practicing and practicing in his rooms until he got the movements right. He could not bear it if he were to fail when she taught him. He knew that neither of them would get to the dancing after the feast that night and he wanted one chance to be with her before he was forced by his bond to betray her and the High Gods. She began to hum a song and he recognized it as a slow one. He had often seen young lovers dancing to this song late at night when they thought no one was watching. His heart soared. He watched as she showed him the basic steps, pantomiming them with a few slight mistakes. Then he repeated them a few times, his feet becoming surer and his movements bolder.

Then she had slipped into his arms and they were dancing together on the hill in the moonlight, above the town, to the sound of the wind and her soft humming. His heart thumped insanely with pleasure; for one moment, one perfect moment, they were together, as they had been in his dreams so many times over. Their swaying slowed and he looked down at her. Her face was tilted up towards him, eyes glistening silver in the light of the full moon. Her face was suffused with trust and love as she looked up at him. And then he was kissing her; their lips locked together in passion. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, even in timing with his own. He did not know how long they stood there, he felt as though the world had stopped for them on the hill as eons passed them by.

A sudden burst of laughter and music from the village broke through their minds and he let go. They stood there, panting, staring at each other in a surge of loving energy, and he felt his heart breaking for what he must do. Hands twined together, arm in arm, they walked back down the hill to the beginnings of the festival. When they came to the main square, they had to part so that she could change into her holiday clothing. He leaned into her and poured his heart into his words, whispering in her ear, “I love you, Colleve, I will always love you.” She kissed him once more and reluctantly disappeared into the crowd. Broken, he sought the darkened path back to his master.

**Part II**

Mortam wiped the emotion from his face before entering the chamber of Loctor. He opened the massive ebony door and strode into the hall, noting that the God appeared not to have moved since their meeting that morning. “The feast is starting, all is ready.” He proclaimed scornfully, “You will have your moment of glory tonight, thanks to me.”

The God looked up and suddenly his face split into a cruel smile. Mortam knew that smile, and did not like what it usually preceded. “I would not talk so insolently to me Bound One, I am your master.” Mortam recognized the tone in his voice as the arrogant one he himself had used earlier.

“I told you, you can’t do anything to me.” Mortam replied, tired of repeating himself, “I have nothing that you could take or harm. You have nothing but my mother’s promise to hold me here.”

There was that smile again. “I’m inclined to disagree. There is one person I think you care about enough to make her useful against you. One you will ‘always love’ I believe is what you told her.”

Mortam struggled to control his feelings. _Colleve!_ He had seen, he had heard! “You cannot harm her.” Mortam declared, “You need her still to bring about the coming of the La’taron. She is the Key. She cannot open the portal that will lead to the destruction of the High Gods if she is dead.” For once he was glad of his master’s plot- for now it was the only thing keeping Colleve alive.

Loctor smiled again and spoke softly, “Actually boy, she can only open the portal _if_ she is dead.”

“NO!” Mortam cried, “Sight blind you! Colleve!” A burning began in Mortam’s heart, spreading through his whole body. “No! You cannot! Colleve!” he ran for the door, hounded by the mocking laughter of the God. When he reached the doorway, he found that it would not open. A ball of light appeared and spun around his wrists, ankles, and neck, and suddenly he was shackled and collared, with silver chains in between and one running back to the God’s hand.

“I’ve never had to use the Bindings on you.” Loctor explained, “because you never had a reason to betray me. The Bindings are what keep you in your place as a Bound One. You may not oppose me until they are lifted from you. By me.” Mortam could only stare at him helplessly, mouth working soundlessly as the silver shackles and collar kept him from crying out to the High Gods. “Now, let us go find your Colleve and begin the coming of the La’taron.”

***

Mortam tried to resist, but the chains pulled him after his master, towards the village. Towards Colleve. _NO! He could not let her die._ He could not let Loctor destroy the High Gods. If only he could see them. They would have a way around the Bindings, he was sure. But to get them to listen! No one could talk to them, they- wait. Every human could make one request of the High Gods when they died. The price was enormous, and more often than not the High Gods would not even hear the request, sending the spirit to a lesser God. That was how Mortam’s mother had made her request of Loctor. If only Mortam could invoke his request. He was sure they could break the spell of the Binding, and they would have to listen to him to save themselves.

“We’re here, young one.” Loctor interrupted Mortam’s thoughts. They were indeed, standing in the midst of the feast at Colleve’s village. Loctor must have made them invisible, for the villagers ate as if they saw nothing unusual.

And there was Colleve, sitting with some other young eligible maidens, looking around worriedly. _Looking for Mortam._ Her dress was pale blue and green, with cream accents. She was more beautiful than he could imagine possible, and the burning in him swelled. “Sight blind you-“ the rest of his sentence was cut off by the silver collar around his neck.

“Now, that’s no way to talk.” Loctor grinned again. Then he waved his hand, the one not holding Mortam’s tether, and suddenly the villagers were seeing boy and God in their midst. There was much screaming and shouting as the terrified people leapt over benches and tables in their haste to escape. The girls at Colleve’s table had run too, but something was holding Colleve back. Mortam glanced at the God and saw his hand pointing at her. Preventing her from escaping. Mortam tried to run to her, but the chains on his feet held him firmly in place. “Now Mortam,” Loctor boomed, “You know there is no point in trying to run. You might teach your little friend here the same.”

“Mortam!” she cried. Mortam swung his head back to Colleve. She had stopped running and was now looking at him. He could see the terror on her face, but also something else. Anger? Determination? And suddenly he understood it. She believed him to be trapped and wanted to free him. No, she mustn’t, she couldn’t come any closer.

“Colleve! Colleve don’t…” the Binding choked off his sentence and brought him to his knees. NO! He had to save her. He had to get to the High Gods, to make his last request. But only the spirits of the dead could ask for such a request. And then he saw it. A carving knife lay on the ground beside an overturned table. He could just barely reach it with the tip of his boot. Mortam looked up once more. Loctor was talking to Colleve, soothing her, trying to draw her to him. No, he had to… he thrust out his leg, catching the knife under his boot and dragging it towards him. When he had it in his hand, Mortam looked up once again. Colleve had been backing away from Loctor, and now the God stood between her and Mortam. All the better, he did not want her to have to see this. “I love you Colleve.” He cried, and plunged the knife into his own heart.

**Part III**

He heard, from a distance, as Loctor cursed and Colleve screamed. Then there was blackness and the sound of a rushing wind, running across the plains before a storm. He felt nothing, not the wind, not the pain in his chest, not the cool metal of the Binding. Abruptly he fell to the cold stone floor of a large throne room. Five thrones reared before him, arching proudly in gilded gold. “I wish to ask a last request of the High Gods!” He cried, “Before it is too late and the La’taron comes again!” That should get their attention if nothing else did. With a small satisfaction Mortam noted that the Binding was now gone, he could speak freely in death.

He was about to repeat his call when the air shimmered and the five High Gods appeared on their thrones. “What do you wish, Mortal, of the Bound Ones?” asked the Goddess on the right. Her voice rang, like the rush of the waves on a beach, the cry of seabirds, and the resounding throb of a shore-side watchbell in the fog. Mortam knew her to be Da’orl, Goddess of the waters.

He bowed deeply, “Peace on your Eyes forever. If it please, my master in life, Loctor, wishes to bring about the coming of the La’taron. Tonight. He has found the ancient artifact Wikael. He has found the girl he needs to open the portal, he has prepared everything. He has begun. As we speak he is attempting to kill her so that her blood may open the gateway to your doom.”

“WHAT?” cried the second God in on the left. His voice carried the rumbling of an earthquake, the crunch of great boulders crashing to the ground, and the deepness of the very core of the world. This would be Do’wod, God of Terra, God of the ground. “How would you know this?”

He bowed again, “If it please, I, under my bond, read the scrolls of prophesy in the Temple of Conitzu for my former master. I stole the Wikael from the Temple of Rehambe for him. I found Colleve, the Key that he required. But I could not watch him destroy you, her, and the world. I tried to warn her, but he had me under the Binding, and the only way I could think to stop him was to make my last request of you.” He bowed once more, just in case.

The Gods around him broke into a babble of talk. In their voices, furnaces roared, wind whipped through mountain passes, the great leviathans of the deep sang mournfully, volcanoes erupted, mountains moved, and the stars whistled though the night. Finally they turned to him and the Goddess of the Skies, Da’fre, in the center, spoke to Mortam. “What is your request?”

Mortam was taken aback for a minute. “Aren’t you going to stop Loctor?” his voice cracked in anguish. They needed to move now, before it was too late for Colleve.

“Yes, we will, but first we need to finish with your request.” Do’che, God of Fires, sounded impatient with Mortam’s confusion. “Make it so that we may go.”

“Save Colleve. Keep Loctor from killing her tonight, let her live a good life.” Mortam spoke quickly, throat tight. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

Da’wel, Goddess of Air, looked sharply at Mortam. “That is your wish? Are you sure? That is all of it?” He nodded. “Very well. We shall return.” With that they shimmered and were gone.

Mortam paced and waited anxiously. What was taking them so long? Why hadn’t he crossed over yet? He did not remember other spirits hanging around this long. Maybe his wish had not yet been completed. _Maybe they were too late to save Colleve._ He shut his mind from that train of thought. Colleve would be all right. She would live a long life, happy with some man who was not Bound to a God. She would be all right.

Once again, the air shimmered around the five thrones and the High Gods reappeared. “It is done.” Do’che, God of Fires told him. “Now we need to deal with you.”

Da’wel continued. “We need to discus your request.” Here the Goddess of Air hesitated, “There are special circumstances to be considered.”

“Then Colleve is dead?” Mortam forced the words from his unwilling lips; he needed to know.

“No, no. She is fine. But there are rules. You made a wish, not for yourself, but for another. You did not wish to be reborn, or to find life after death or some other selfish request.”

The god of Terra picked up here. “You made your request without any thought for yourself, with only the safety and welfare of another in mind.” Mortam couldn’t see how his request would make a difference, but before he could ask, Do’wod continued. “There are very clear rules for this situation. Because of your selfless wish and the sacrifice you made for us, you may return to life if you want.”

“Back to being Loctor’s slave?” Mortam asked, incredulous. Never would he go back to that life. “And don’t I owe you a service for my request?”

The Goddess of the Skies spoke next. “No, no, Loctor has been destroyed. Besides, you broke the Binding when you died. Your binding was very weak; you had been with Loctor so long that the bond was breaking anyway. That is how you managed to destroy the Binding by dying. But now you can be done with it all. You could live a free life.” Now Da’fre smiled slightly, “As for the payment, I think that saving the five High Gods is service enough. Don’t you wish to go back?”

To go back to Terra. To go back to Colleve. To live with Colleve and never serve another God again? To grow old in Colleve’s village with their children around them and never need to worry about anything more than the winter snows and the price of bread. “Oh gladly will I go back!” he cried, grinning unabashedly at the High Gods before him, “Oh yes please!”

“Very well.” She nodded and the other four Gods followed suit. They shimmered out and Mortam was pulled backwards, enveloped in the darkness. He heard the rushing winds again, like a frozen blast zooming through the snow-topped peaks of the highest mountains.

***

Abruptly the winds died down and he heard another sound, softer and very close by. It was, laughing? No weeping, some one was crying nearby. Colleve! Mortam struggled to open his eyes. Colleve was there, cradling his head in her lap. Her tears fell onto his face and her sobs shook him slightly. He wanted to comfort her, but his chest felt compressed, and his arm would not respond. He looked down and saw that his wound had been bandaged. He looked back up at Colleve and tried once again to comfort her. “C-Colleve. Don’t w-weep.” His throat was parched, yet he squeezed the words out.

Colleve started and looked down at him. Seeing him awake and alive, she began to cry harder. “I was so afraid, afraid for you.” She managed through the tears. “I thought I lost you forever. It was terrible. I don’t want to loose you ever again.”

“You still love me?” Mortam was amazed that she could still love him after what he had done. After what he had put her through. “You don’t hate me?”

“No, of course not. The High Gods, they explained that you were Bound to serve him and couldn’t help what he made you do. They said that the only way for you to get free to warn them was by- by- They said that you could have brought yourself to life or something with your wish and instead you only wanted me to be happy. How could I not still love you!” She began to cry again, in joy and wonder at what he had done.

The High Gods. They had ensured that she would live a happy life, by explaining why he had done what he had. They had allowed Colleve and him to live together happily forever. They had granted his wish. “I love you, Colleve, I will always love you.” This time Mortam was able to lift his arm enough to wipe away her tears. “Always.”


End file.
